test drive meme # 38

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open November 24th, and apps are open December 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC MOTHERFUCKER
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Of course, a War Unicorn may not seem too lethal, but anyone who's seen Cabin in the Woods knows that they pack a powerful, uh, stab (cw for gore). War Unicorns are mighty beasts, larger than most horses and made of raw muscle. They might seem cute and cuddly in concept, but they're trained to use their horns to blind their opponents before trampling over them with their ironclad hooves and their two thousand pound bulk.

Want to try to bring one down? It's harder than it looks, thanks to their natural magic resistance- many offensive abilities and spells simply don't work on them, and you might piss them off if you try, so be careful...]

C O N F U S I O N

SCENARIO TWO: REMEMBER ME
[It may have just been a brush against the shoulder, a quick handshake, a simple hug- but at the first touch of skin on skin, suddenly you see the other person's memories. This can range anywhere from a recent moment to something traumatic from their past and can be done willingly, if you like.

Of course, once you realize what's going on, you might want to bundle up and avoid contact with everyone- though you might look a little strange, so don't be surprised if someone asks you what you're doing!

This is a mini version of our Memories Past event this month.]

T R A N Q U I L I T Y

SCENARIO THREE: PASS THE TURKEY
[It's that special time of year again, where you get to hang out with people you only kinda sorta know and catch up with every other month or so and pretend that you're all really close for the sake of food.

Because of course, there's a splendid feast waiting for you- juicy turkey and warm stuffing and your very favorite potato dish! The only downside is that you have to spend your evening with these losers, but we're sure you'll find something to talk about!

Well- maybe not religion, relationships, or politics. How 'bout that weather we're having?]

Comments

Kate Marsh | Life Is Strange

[illustressions]

[ ooc: kate's story deals with depression and sttempted suicide, but i will avoid that by default ]

• fear

[ The medicine, the stress, and her artwork mix up and make her dreams more vivid than ever. That's what Kate believes is happening when she sees a massive unicorn stamping a hoof angrily. At least it's not looking at her, right? ]

Wake up... wake up.

[ That usually works. But it's not working now. ]

Wake up, wake up...

[ No. Oh no. Oooooh no. Kate gets up, nervous, hugging her elbows close to herself like it'll make her disappear. ]

Wakeupwakeupwakeup...



• tranquility

[ Well... she may be on another planet, but that doesn't mean God isn't real. Kate is alive and has hope of getting home, so she will take this opportunity to be thankful.

She's very relaxed as she samplws the buffet, smiling and greeting anyone she crosses paths with. She'll make small talk-- how are you doing today, what's your favorite holiday food, what's your favorite holiday -- things like that.

When she sits to eat, she bows her head, puts her hands together, and prays. ]

tranquility!

[einselective]

[Marian has been eyeballing the food skeptically, but food is food, when it comes to this place, so eventually hunger wins out and she settles down with a plate of potato and vegetables. Yet at the sight of the girl next to her praying, she audibly and scornfully snorts.]

Unbelievable.

fear

[isochrone]

[ Elizabeth hasn't had a good reaction to the murderous unicorns either, but seeing the other young woman panicking manages to galvanize her. If she can get the beast to charge, she can send it through a Tear... she hopes. ]

Come on, miss... we can do this!

fear;

[themogget]

You should move.

[There's a small white cat near her foot, and the voice seemed to come from its direction. It's watching the creature, tail lashing and fur standing slightly on end.

When she doesn't move immediately, the creature very deliberately digs a sharp claw into her ankle and yowls--] Now!

fear!

[battlebound]

( He has one sword pushing the beast's horn away from his abdomen and the other buried into its chest, clearing the thing that tried to gore him as soon as he stood up, but it doesn't look like there's only one enemy in this strange place.

That suits Steak just fine, and he picks his next target a split second later.

There are closer beasts, certainly, but none of them are staring down a girl who is curled in on herself, clearly (or at least to Steak) terrified. He wastes no further thoughts, charging in with enough noise that its head turns towards him instead. )

Are you alright?

( He has to get her away from the danger, as soon as possible. )

steak; food fantasy

[battlebound]

— friendship is magic;

( He finds himself in a place he doesn't recognise, blinking away the disorientation and reaching for his swords. Still there, but this isn't the sign of a summoning. There's no human staring at the spot where he appears, eyes wide and hopeful.

And, most importantly of all, he doesn't normally wake up flat on his ass when he gets summoned.

Ergo, there's one conclusion to be drawn from this, and that's— )

Bloody Mary... ( The cold chill of a malevolent Soul, surely. It wouldn't be the first time Bloody Mary attempted some hare-brained scheme to get his hands on Steak. But then, Steak would expect him to be standing there, all too ready to begin chatting.

And he isn't.

Steak pauses, and blinks, and looks around again. Not a summoning. And Bloody Mary is nowhere to be found. And none of this scene looks at all familiar. Except that animal exhaling loudly in his general direction.

A horse? Perhaps he could just use it to make his way out of this arena and back to where he's meant to be.

Or perhaps it could attempt to gore him, instead. Steak jumps back, a light barrier forming around him as he reaches for his swords, drawing both of them and glowering at the horned beast.

Very well, he'll deal with this obstacle, but when he spies the indistinct shape of a person out of the corner of his eye, he quickly shouts — )

Stay behind me!

( He'll deal with this threat. That is, after all, his duty. )

— remember me;

( Steak is not a Soul who sits idle, or who allows himself to give into despair. Food Souls live long existences, and he has roamed Tierra for countless years, both with and without Attendants. As long as there are things to fight and people to fight for, he will find something to do.

And Hadriel offers that in spades. He quickly becomes a regular face at the guard HQ and their training grounds, spending hours working on his considerable combat skills, or patrolling the islands in search of any monsters which threaten the peace here. The evenings are often spent at the Speakeasy, where a quiet glass of alcohol and some company doesn't go amiss.

Though, should you brush into him during any of this, you might just find yourself transported to a strange world with many interesting Food Souls. )

( OOC: gonna offer a few options for memories here!
1. First meeting his old Master Attendant
2. First meeting Red Wine
3. When his Master Attendant first confesses his love to his fiancée.
4. Confronting Bloody Mary. )

Friendship is Magic

[voiceacrosttime]

OH! Yes, of course!

[Kohaku dives behind him instantly. Maybe this monster works for a demon? They don't know. But this person is promising to protect them, so... It should be okay right? Err... right?]

Uhm... what are you going to do to it?

[There's a definite timid uncertainty in Kohaku's voice. Steak doesn't plan to hurt it, does he?]

[judgementor]

I beg your pardon.

[Stay behind him? His role as a defender notwithstanding Red Wine is loath as ever to take any others from his fellow Soul in a situation as strange as this one. He stays where he is, drawn almost level with him, sword in hand and his eyes sharp.

Just who do you think you're talking to anyway, Steak?

A battle is just as well. It allows for a potent distraction from the many, many questions he has about just where they are and why. But Steak's here, and that can really only mean one thing.]

What did you do this time?!

remember me with memory #3 and my apologies

[notimpervious]

[ Souls are a creation of the human mind, a lie people cling to in a desperate and frankly illogical fear. Nonexistence after death is a fact, it is reality. Why are humans so determined to believe consciousness persists beyond death? Save for consummate scholars and scientists, why would a person want to live on in an incorporeal form? Death gives life meaning.

It gives love meaning, and so Brennan finds the vision she witnesses sweet and touching.

It's the souls part that bothers her. ]

Food souls.

[ She murmurs once the memory ends. Clearly that is the weird thing here and not the fact that she has seen someone's memory. ]

Food does not have sentience or sapience. This is clearly a strange name for true living beings.

[ Clearly. ]

[motherfsghhingmuscles]

ONE

[Look, he is in awe of this majestic muscular beast, okay? Broken-toothed gaping sweaty awe, as the unicorn paws the ground with a hoof and charges him. Fortunately, at least half of ARquiusprite has some sense of self-preservation even in the face of such grandeur, zipping his muscular ghost-tailed floating body to the side at the last second.]

There's no need for such hijinks. Clearly you are a beast of the most exquisite elegance.

[Okay, he's no horse unicorn whisperer, delivering his lines in a firm tone. And he can't help beaming despite the unicorn's attempted stabbing. This is actually going to go terribly despite his best intentions. Or possibly worst intentions, depending on your opinion.]

Why, look at those rippling, gleaming haunches. Listen. Perhaps, dare I suggest it, we should touch each others muscles. I command it. I mean, if you're down. But why would you not want to? When we are both perfect bodacious beefy specimens.

[He floats a bit closer, holding his hands out a little. The unicorn snorts and shakes his head with a whinny. Please for the love of god stop him before he gets speared.]

TWO

[It usually behooves ARquiusprite to implore anyone and everyone to touch his buff bod and marvel at its musculature. On the other hand, he might also have some bad and shameful memories on both halves of his pre-sprite selves. As you can imagine, he's sweating even more copiously than usual under this kind of strain.]

Hi. Look. I can understand that of course you would want to rest your delicate digits upon this incredible hunk of man-meat. But perhaps now is not the best of times, given the circumstances.

THREE

[Who knows how this sweaty frickup got in here? Floating really help in stealthily coming up behind people like a huge creeper.]

I see we've accumulated all the necessities of a seasonal chumly get-together. While I'm sure all of you are planning to sit around and air something approaching familial grievances under the auspices of a little light banter, I have one important question.

Where is the gosh d*mn milk?

three

[isochrone]

[ Elizabeth looks less than impressed with the barrage of cynicism, crossing her arms. ]

Honestly, you could put a little more effort into going along with the idea, sir.

Kohaku | Wish/CLAMP Universe

[voiceacrosttime]

[ FEAR ]

Kohaku is... hopelessly lost. Just where is this place? They don't recognize anything, either. Oh, well, they'll just try to summon a wind spirit to guide them back to Shuuichiro. Easy as pie, right? They'll be home in no time.

But just as Kohaku is casting the spell, something comes nearby, and it's something Kohaku has never seen before - a unicorn? At the very least, it's pretty, and piques Kohaku's curiousity.

"Hello..." Kohaku gently hovers closer. Maybe they can be friends?

Kohaku offers a smile and reaches out to pet it.

"My name's Koha--" Annnnnd.... apparently that wasn't a good idea. Because now it seems to be mad.

Kohaku screams and flies away as fast as their wings can carry them. A flurry of robes and wings to escape from an enraged beast of war as they cry.

Please help them. They don't know what happened.


[ TRANQUILITY ]

Kohaku is having a hard time being here. Mostly because there's meat and other dead organisms every where they look. They look pale and ready to vomit at any given time.

They can be found carefully avoiding certain tables.

Oh, wait! Is that milk over there?! They'll have some of that please! Except, that Kohaku is so eager to get some that they knock some over into you, too.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so, so sorry!"


[ NIGHTFALL ]

Somebody didn't find a particularly good hiding spot. Somewhere, behind a building, sobbing can be heard. If you dare to investigate, you'll find a tiny little angel crying.

With a sniffle, they look up at you.

"Do you know Shuuichiro? I can't find him anywhere."

Nevermind that they have no idea where they are. They're not worried about going home. They're worried about Shuuichiro.

"You see, I have to grant his wish. I can't do that if I'm not with him."

nightfall

[isochrone]

Elizabeth follows the sounds of the sobbing, peeking around the corner to find Kohaku. She kneels down before them, her blue skirt brushing the ground. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone named Shuuichiro," she replies, managing rather well on the name. "Are you all right though? Are you hurt?"

Iris Amicitia | Final Fantasy XV

[carrotkeeper]

Confusion

[This is weird. Bumping into someone had been an accident as she marveled at the weird structures and items, but the effects were immediate-visions swirling around, thoughts that weren't her own pressing into her mind and the invasive feeling that something of hers was shared as well. Not great.

And so, she continues on her way, mindful of the people around her. Anyone who gets within arms length gets a helpful little warning.]

Hey, might wanna be careful-

[She presses a couple fingers to her temple.]

I think this place is trying to make us part time psychics or something. Have you been seeing weird things too?

Tranquility

Check this out. It's sooooo good-here!

[And guess what? Your character now has a heaping spoonful of stuffing on their plate or, if they didn't have a plate, are now in possession of one.]

Did you see the cranberry sauce? Oh, wait a sec. I'll grab you some of that-don't move a muscle!

tranquili-turkey

[jocoeur]

Oh, I— ( he had been holding his plate out, so he should have expected this. but akira probably just didn't expect, well, that much. still, you don't look a gift horse pile of stuffing in the mouth.
or do you?
anyway... he just has to stare that mountain for a bit. )

Is it really possible to try everything?

( it's so much... )

Chuck | Pushing Daisies

[upchucks]

[ A. Remember Me ]

[ It has been two days, fourteen hours and twenty-two minutes since the girl named Chuck discovered that physical contact has a way of sharing memories with people. While such things have a way of sharing the sad as well as the happy times, Chuck has decided that she wants to try and make the best of a confusing situation.

Which is why today she is walking up to people with the sunniest disposition she can manage while carrying a sign that reads "Good Memory Hugs". ]

Hi there! I have this theory about this whole memory thing that's happening right now. I think that maybe if you're feeling good the memories will be good, too! And what feels better than a hug, honestly?

[ And in her opinion, the people around here are in desperate need of a hug. Those who take Chuck up on her offer of a Good Memory Hug will find themselves receiving one of several positive ones from her.

A. A memory of Chuck on her birthday as a child, dressed up with her neighbor Ned. Both of them are dressed in monster costumes as they godzilla stomp destruction upon a city of toys
B. Chuck is laying in a dark box and has been laying there patiently for some time when suddenly the lid is lifted off and she is staring up at her childhood sweetheart, Ned as he rescues her.
C. Chuck and Ned are on the roof of their apartment building, surrounded by beehives that are most certainly illegal within city limits as she talks about rogue urban beekeeping and the possibility of planting flowers on neighboring rooftops. ]


[ B. Pass the Turkey ]

[ The girl named Chuck has always had a soft spot in her heart for the holidays. All of the holidays, in fact. Given the excuse Chuck would throw a party for Arbor Day, complete with recycled paper decorations and some properly themed seasonal treats. So on this of all days, she might have gotten a bit... carried away. Maybe it was the influence of a certain pie maker in her life but Chuck arrives to the celebration with multiple pies in tow. All of them carefully crafted and with love baked into every crust.

She helps herself to a plate of food that is mostly desserts and plants herself down next to whoever seems like they're most in need of the company. ]

Have you decided what you're thankful for this year? There's so much to appreciate, really.

A, I'm so sorry about her

[einselective]

[The look that she gets from Marian is the most deadpan, not hugs allowed flat and unimpressed stare you can imagine. Marian might also be bundled up like it's -40C, between the gloves, coat and hat, and is clearly not up for any close contact.]

Surely you can't be serious.

Marian Tenebris | Original Character

[einselective]

[2A: Remember Me]

[ Marian doesn't like people to get too close to her at the best of times, but the extremity of her caution has slipped over time, as her anxiety over the idea that someone might try to take her device has gone down. But accidents can happen, and perhaps your hands brush when reaching for something...

((option i))

Someone who you thought was a friend and colleague is yelling at you.

"I can't take this anymore! Why do you keep lying to me! This is all your fault and you knew it from the start. So what is it? Some twisted, out of control plot to make everyone else just as miserable as you? Some psychopathic turn to outright murder the people that people in your life care more about than *you* and whatever bullshit you're up to? Jealousy? Or just some sick twistedness that's infected you? ... I know... I know, I can hear it too, but I won't let it get to me!"

You weren't lying, just not completely sure, and you're not sure how to respond. Something is horribly wrong here. This isn't like Ella, and you could swear there's the faintest whispering coming from the shadows. You try to reason with her, but not for long before fleeing the room, out into the snow and broken landscape. She doesn't follow.


((option ii))

It's dark, so dark that there's nothing at all to see except inky blackness and cold. Cold so deep that it hurts, stops your breath flat. Something crunches underfoot, like snow or sand, but there's no proper sound. In this blackness, senses seem distorted somehow; the cold hurts your hearing, the crunch hurts your eyes.

Within that darkness, you can feel the faintest, faintest glow of a perfect circle in the... sky? The barest shade of lighter black on black, illuminating a landscape of black, darker and darker pillars reaching up, vanishing into a black sky of absolute nothingness. No other stars are left to shine, no movement or heat is left in this vast empty universe.

You can't even breathe. There's no proper time, only the cosmic stasis of a vast and ancient entity unwilling to let death come, its massive black tendrils stretched out across its universe in search of even the tiniest fragment of energy to sustain it.

You want to scream, but you can't.


[2B: ...or not]

[Still, once she clues in to that happening, rest assured that on top of her usual turtleneck she's wearing gloves and a coat. Marian always feels cold anyway, adding an extra layer of protection isn't a problem.

Of course, this means it's back to the usual -- approach any closer than a couple meters and she backs off a step, frowning.]

Just what do you think you're doing?


[3: Pass on the Turkey]

[Marian has eaten meat since first arriving in Hadriel, out of necessity a few times, but would really rather not. Despite all her protests about the 'parasites', everyone has to eat, and if they're offering something at least approaching reasonable vegetables, that's better than anything from a can or monster meat. She sighs, sitting down with a plate of potato and veg, glaring morosely at the plate as if it is personally responsible for this entire situation and her life in this city.]

3

[unheeled]

[ Oh fuck off, you undead-looking hag, at least you can eat this food to begin with. Rita can too, technically, but she won't taste it.

Being a zombie sucks, in case you didn't know.

But since this isn't exactly public knowledge, Rita doesn't say any of that. Just stays where she is (there's about one chair's space between them) and nodding as she glances up from her glass of mediocre wine. ]

Not appetizing?

[ Who knows, this lady has the coloring for a zombie. You never know. And if not, that question won't out Rita. ]

Lena De Spell | Ducktales

[justapuppet]

[Confusion.]

[If anyone brushes up against Lena, they will catch a glimpse of the moon's surface before Lena pulls away from them with a startled look. Whatever Lena saw, she definitely looks startled and a little uncomfortable.]

Hey uh... did you see something weird, just now?

[Tranquility]

[Food is good. But even though a turkey isn't a duck, there's still a cooked bird-shaped thing sitting out on a table full of other dishes.]

... Okay, now that's messed up.

Tranquility

[tenuousmorality]

"You can't blame them for trying to please everyone, even if they have failed spectacularly."

The source of the voice is seated to Lena's right, legs crossed neatly and clasped hands on his lap. Has he eaten yet? Who knows. He's pretty chill about the whole thing. Even about talking to an anthropomorphic duck girl.

"It's probably difficult for the gods to remember everyone that's been brought here, not that I'm asking you to forgive them for such a foolish thing. I believe it has some root in culture, the whole feast thing."

agent maine | red vs. blue

[bloodbathing]

confusion

[ Casual contact isn't something that happens easily, with Agent Maine. He doesn't gesticulate haphazardly or move without direction. His body language is purposeful and closed-off; he's more likely to be seen with his arms folded or his hands curled into fists at his side than to appear relaxed. Even in gatherings, he stands removed from others, deliberately placing himself on the fringes of groups.

No, casual contact isn't something that happens easily. But somehow, skin has touched skin — a handshake? a brush to his bare arm? accidentally running into the seven-foot-tall wall of muscle that is a stationary Maine? — and the memories are flowing.

Many of Maine's memories are tinted shades of red — filled with blood, violence, and rage. A training session utilizing live ammunition; a skyscraper crumbling around him; a high-speed car chase that ends with nine bullets in Maine's neck. Rarer are moments of camaraderie, either with fellow Freelancers or with other soldiers, when he was younger and not yet "Agent Maine."

Whatever memory it may be, it's too late to stop it — even as Maine immediately pulls away from the contact. ]

( ooc: lmk which memory you choose, and i'll write it up in my reply to you! alternatively, i'm down with maine being the recipient of memory-exchange /o/ )


tranquility

[ Someone should probably inform Maine that this is a time for sharing. Because, from the looks of it, he's trying to devour everything.

Whether he could or not is a topic for debate. Maine is a massive man, after all: seven feet tall, four hundred pounds of muscle, and built like he could throw a car. (Spoiler alert: he can.) Left to his own devices, he might be able to scarf down a whole table's worth of food. It might be worth watching to find out ... but then there'd be nothing left for anyone else.

Try to slow the big guy down? Sit back and stare? Or attempt to get him to pass the potatoes? ]


wildcard

( ooc: got another idea? toss something my way and we'll see what we can do. :) as a note: maine is mute and communicates through growls, grunts, and body language. if i don't give you enough to work with in a tag, please let me know so i can adjust! ♥ )

car chase --> bullets please!

[hardwearing]

[ Maine's arrival was a shock, but a welcome one, and even though Tucker and Epsilon were uneasy Wash and Carolina's wishes won the day -- the hulking man moved into Bluehaus (which is now only half blue really) and they've all been learning to navigate such an assortment of people in one space.

Wash is actually more likely now to engage in casual contact than he was for a long stretch there. These days he's more like he was in Freelancer, in that sense. He doesn't skitter back when someone reaches out, not anymore. Living in close quarters with people he cared about, then making more friends and starting a relationship here, and finally being forced out of armor and to touch one another for events... he's warmed to it, adjusted to it. So without being aware something is happening currently, he doesn't really register how close he gets when he pads into the kitchen this morning and beelines for the coffeemaker. He's never shied away from Maine anyway.

And so their arms brush when he reaches up to open the cupboard, and then the kitchen fades to memory.

--

Wash is standing beside a line of recruits trying to shoot cones off a concrete barrier set up downrange. The first three all hit their targets, the fourth misses several times.

"Lieutenant Palomo! Explain to me how, in light of your recent promotion, you've somehow managed to become worse at target practice!"

The soldier replies, speaking a little too quickly as if he's intimidated. "Uh, because the newly added pressure of my rank makes me second guess my actions more frequently in hopes I won't let down my fellow peers."

Wash starts out still yelling, trying to keep up the act, "Why don't--" but then mellows quickly. "Oh. Um. I mean that's... understandable, Lieutenant."

"Also, I've been trying to make a smiley face for like nine minutes." And when Wash glances back at the wall, this seems to be true. "Nailed it."

Wash sighs, and someone wails his name from behind him. "...now what?"

It's a man in orange armor, sounding urgent. "Where's Kimball?"

"Ohhhhh. Captain Grif. How nice of you to join us, we missed you at practice this morning."

"Yeah. That's probably because I wasn't there." And it doesn't sound like he cares.

"So you weren't. Which is why everyone is going to give me three laps around the training facility." The Lieutenants start complaining about how unfair it is, but Wash just orders them again. "Get moving."

"You're punishing them?" Grif doesn't understand either.

"Remedial training. Disciplining the group for the actions of a single soldier leads to social pressures that typically result in the hasty correction of undesirable behavior. Classic military strategy."

Palomo shouts from his run, "Thanks a lot, fuckface!"

"So," Wash continues, "Are you ready to begin today's training?"

"Uh... no?"

"Alright, then. Let's make it four laps!" Again, the troops groan.

"How're you feeling now?" Wash asks Grif.

"I feel like this military's fucking weird."

"Five laps!!" More groaning, but Grif seems delighted.

"Man! This is the best punishment ever!"

The memory fades out on their conversation, something something Kimball something, and Grif's back retreating while the recruits collapse into a pile.

--

Maine got the better end of this swap -- what Wash is seeing is significantly more upsetting than a fumbled attempt at playing drill sergeant. ]

Knock Out • Transformers Prime

[redcosmedic]

• FEAR

Knock Out has been shrunk down from his normal height to a mere ('mere') 12 feet, but after one of the nasty beasties decided to take a swipe at him, he produced his subspaced energon prod and tried to electrocute it - to mixed results. It did temporarily stun it, but only long enough for the medic to assume victory and be rewarded with a stampeding unicorn in his direction. Thus observers may be treated to Knock Out flailing around as he flees. When he doesn't seem to be able to put enough distance between himself and the unicorn, he throws himself into vehicle mode and a red sports car goes tearing off across the ground, heedless of if anything or anyone who might be in his way. ]

Not the finish, not the finish!

• TRANQUILITY

[ Knock Out is less than impressed with the Thanksgiving spread, if only because he can't eat any of it (even if the mere thought of ingesting organic matter like that wasn't tank-churning enough of an idea). No, he's happy enough to sip at his cube of high-grade energon that fortuitously showed up at the same time, enough to convince him that at least one of these gods had a brain in their deific cranials. Owing to his larger size, he's plunked outside near the step, and is giving running snarky commentary on anyone who shows up for the meal. ]

Better hurry, they've almost eaten all of it. Oh, you got dressed in the dark, didn't you? That's unfortunate.

Tranquility...

[writtendestiny]

[Poison pauses mid-step as Knock Out's voice reaches her. Fashion has never been one of her main concerns (or even a slight one) and she shoots him a thin smile as she very deliberately flicks her attention over him.]

I thought you would have made some effort to polish up for a party. [She says nonchalantly.] Did you decide not to bother because you can't get inside?

Galadriel | Lord of the Rings

[ladyofthewood]

Unicorn shenanigans!
The beautiful horse with a horn on its forehead doesn't feel quite how the she-elf would expect. There is something so very wrong that it has her watch them closely, standing still despite the disorientation of going from the docks of the Grey Havens to...This.

She has no weapon but her own fading strength, but that is nothing unusual. And in a place that feels muted, she does not know just how long she could keep up any attack. So she aims to conserve her strength.

And so she watches, wondering if movement would set the creature off.

But she is a child brought up in peace, thrown to war, and helped, in more subtle ways than others, to return her world to peace. She is not one to stay put, even with uncertainty hanging over her. So she moves forward, drawing gentle and soothing emotions around her and speaking softly to try and keep the creature from attacking.


Memories:
It's not quite cold enough to warrant searching for warmer clothes, though even then Galadriel's aware she looks more unusual than normal in her summery white dress and bare feet. She's making bets with herself to see just how long it will be until someone shoves a warm cloak at her though. It amuses her, and sometimes it's necessary to find ways to brighten her own day.

Giving a couple options for memories:
1) Grinding Ice- This one will show the deaths of people she knew and loved
2) Wedding- her granddaughter got married just before she came through the Door! Feast! Be jolly!


Feast:
Being around people in any sort of feast brightens emotions and eases the darkness threatening at the edges of this little community she's been pulled into. Enough so that she lets herself mingle, soaking up what goodwill there is, and speaking to those who stop stumbling over themselves approach her.

She keeps an air of almost amusement about her, holding herself with her usual grace. She has a bite of food here, a drink of wine and water there, discovering what this party has to offer.

Memories

[bythewaves]

The answer to that, of course, is: the minute her cousin spots her.

Galadriel is old and tired, new come from her war. So is Maglor, of course, but he's had time here to heal, at least a little. And to get new clothes. It isn't so fine as the things they've known long ago, but it's also a fair sight better than what he was wearing when he came, and the cloak settles on her shoulders warmly.

"I owe you many apologies." A familiar voice tells her softly. "Will you hear them?"

Elizabeth • Bioshock Infinite

[isochrone]

( fear )

[ Elizabeth is caught between wonder and wariness, as the embodiment of the most fantastic creature is not behaving... quite as expected. She'd initially tried to approach it, eyes shining at the realization that the fantastical creature actually existed, but with the way it's snorting angrily and pawing the ground, she's begun to rethink the idea. ]

Um, there there... I'm backing up now, see? Nothing to be concerned about... oh dear...

( confusion )

[ Literally her first experience with another human being, and she clubs him over the head with a tome. She can take care of herself! Until the world starts falling down around them... ]

( tranquility )

[ It's everything she'd have expected a proper feast to be, and the beaming smile that Elizabeth is wearing is proof enough that, strange circumstances aside, she's probably the happiest person to be stuck in Hadriel that most have seen. ]

Oh this is wonderful look at all the food! And the trimmings! It's funny how you never think of trimmings as important but really, they add so much to the whole atmosphere, have you ever seen something so welcoming in your whole life?

tranquility

[unfollowing]

Of course I have. Jesus. My favorite shops in Rodeo are more welcoming than this, and they only sell clothes.

[ At this point Emily is complaining for the sake of complaining, but to be fair, the gods have thrown better parties too. ]

What shithole are you even from that this is such a big deal?

Maedhros | The Silmarillion

[coppercrowned]

C O N F U S I O N

[ It's been quite some time indeed since memories and thoughts that were not his own passed through Maedhros' minds eye. He had learned with some reliability how to recognize them as not his own. Through all that he had been through a sharpness had built up in him against the influence of others. It sent shrieking signals through his veins to be alert, to be at attention, to survive. The unfamiliar always did now bear with it a sense of danger, to some varying degree.

What had been a gentle graze against the side of his arm turned into feeling and knowing something that he hadn't, in all of his years, known or seen. That foreignness sends him into alert and he tenses, turning on his heels, reaching for a sword that isn't there in a hilt that isn't there. ]

[ ooc: memories to offer.
Something nice: Teaching a young Elrond how to use a sword properly.
Something sad: the feeling of being in a boat on the sea for the first time, while on the shore his kin remain asleep in their tents, unsure about all of it and with the smell of blood on the boats themselves.
Something morose: keeping vigil over King Fingon's body, alone. ]

F E A R

[ If Maedhros was meant to be afraid of the unicorn, their unseen masters had underestimated him. A magical creature, and a dangerous one if not treated with due respect, Maedhros' first reaction is to keep whomever is with him behind him, handless arm keeping the other back while his other reaches for the knife he had opted to keep on his belt in lieu of a sword. He doesn't grab it just yet, keeping eye contact with the beast. Instead of fear, Maedhros' adrenaline-fueled need to protect takes over. ]

T R A N Q U I L I T Y


[ He doesn't remember the last real feast he had. War made soldiers of them all, and he had been at war for more centuries than he had not. In his halls in Himring meals that had the trappings of feasts were still meager in comparison to the meals of his youth. This, though? The smell of the hall fills him with a nostalgia that felt like something belonging to someone else entirely. Someone young, innocent, hopefully, kind.

The melancholy, as usual, sits comfortably in his stomach, but he makes no outward acknowledgement of his very usual state of being. He instead finds a seat, somewhere not too crowded, if he can't spot any of his family nearby. ]


E T C .

[ have another idea? Send it along! ]

all the emotions at once? IDK. Maybe Tranquility or Confusion

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor has known his brother's Song since he was a babe in arms. When Maedhros vanished he mourned him (but everyone always leaves him, in the end), but he kept going, for Curufin and Fingon were still here, and Sansa needed him.

(Maybe he nursed hope his brother would return, but if so he never acknowledged it, not even to himself)

He'd know Maedhros anywhere, asleep or awake, and he comes running to fling himself at his brother with a cry ]

You came back!

[ Stay with me, don't leave me, why do you always leave me behind? ]

Peter 'Dr Necropolis' Lynne | Zombies, Run!

[manwhosoldtheworld]

Remember Me
[Peter is not exactly averse to physical contact. If anything, he'd say that he rather liked it. He's just not had much chance to indulge recently what with being a monstrosity and everything that had come after that. And since then, well, he's still a little skittish.

But a brush of hands is hardly an uncommon occurrence. If he'd known, he'd probably have worn gloves.

There's fear. Most of all, there is always fear. Overwhelming and crushing and twisting. He doesn't think he's ever not been scared. There's pain too, blood and screaming and teeth, ripping and tearing and devouring and leaving him rotting and hollow. There's fire through his brain through his body, ripping his mind apart and that's it! That has to be it right? The end! He welcomes it! Finally!

And her. Always her. Save the world sure. But saving her. Earning a shred of forgiveness.]


Pass the turkey

I didn't think it was Christmas yet and- what is this? Where are the sprouts? Not that I care, they're vile, but it's tradition.

[Despite his grousing, Peter is happily filling a plate with as much as he thinks he can stuff into his face. He'd never been allowed this much when he'd been a child; Christmas had been a miserable affair, and as an adult he'd never- it would have gone against every single diet and a protein shake with chia seeds just wasn't as satisfying.

And then the world had ended and well, he might need a second plate.]

pass the turkey

[bloodbathing]

[ The sprouts? Those, good sir, are currently being hoarded by one Agent Maine. "Hoarded" because he's not eating them just yet, nor did he spoon them onto his own plate. "Hoarded" because he has the entire bowl pulled close to him — along with everything else in reach (and he does have quite a reach).

As he hears the stranger mention "sprouts," Maine looks up from his own personal feast with narrowed eyes. These are his sprouts now, dammit. And he's not about to share them with someone who calls them "vile." ]

Scenario 3! Come poke at this over the top dumbass

[often_impaled]

[Dante isn't particularly happy about being pulled into a strange world against his will, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the food is poisoned he'll regenerate from the internal issues quickly, if they even affect him at all, so he's happily loading his plate up with all sorts of goodies despite the potential risk. And those goodies quickly get loaded up with more gravy than any one person ever really needs.

It's been ages since he had a meal like this. The last one he remembers was when his mom was still alive. It's wonderful, and miserable all at once, a moment full of bittersweet memories and nostalgia. Which he hates. So he pushes the thoughts from his head, and grabs another piece of the bird to enjoy instead of being miserable.

Dante always eats his feelings, although it's usually pizza that's the fuel of choice.

He sits down at the table with his loaded plate, and sets his feet up on it with a rough thud. The boots land hard, knocking his glass from the table into his hand. And he reaches the glass out and manages to catch the liquid back in it without a drop spilling. The silverware rose up at the impact as well, and he catches them with the plate in his other hand. They land perfectly into the mashed potatoes and stuffing without a bit of extra effort.

That's just how Dante does things.

Even on turkey day he's s-s-s-stylish.]

Re: Scenario 3! Come poke at this over the top dumbass

[knifecollecting]

[Jo is at the table too. She isn't going to turn down free food, though she might have more potatoes than someone her size might need.

When Dante kicks his feet up on the table she gives him a look over the table.]

Really?

Zack Fair | Final Fantasy VII

[heroofdreams]

FEAR

[Waking up. He groans. Wait, he's waking up? That's... that's different from a moment ago, wasn't it? He groggily opens his eyes, looking around as everything adjusts, as he tries to recollect the moments before he got to... wherever he is.

Yep. Yep, he's pretty sure he was dead. Seeing Aerith and all in the afterlife. But waking up, it's got him wondering if maybe it was all some drawn out dream.

He doesn't get to think too much on it. There's a unicorn right in front of him. He rolls over and gets himself up.]

Uhh... Okay?

[He'll just stand and stare for a minute. Or, that's what he was planning to do. Until the unicorn decides to charge him.

It's very loud, very abrupt, but it's practically instinct for him. The shout can be heard quite a ways.]

GET BACK!

[And the unicorn pauses.]


TRANQUILITY

Oh, man, a feast!

[Okay, so it's been awhile since he got to enjoy food. His stomach lets out a loud growl to boot. And Zack is readily building himself a plate to dig in with. The more food the better. He wants to try everything.

When he's done filling a plate, he'll find himself a space at the tables and plop down next to you. Hope you're ready for some friendship!]

Hey, how's it going? Isn't this great?

[All the food, he means. He can't believe it's free.]

Hey, not to knock it, but I have no idea where I am. Can you fill me in?

Tranquility

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor blinks, taken aback, but he smiles back ]

It is a kindness, yes. Especially in a world like this. As to that...well. I am not entirely certain, in honesty. But this city is Hadriel, and we are brought here unwilling captives by our hosts, who feed on our emotions.

dale cooper ➣ twin peaks

[brylcreem]

FEAR.

When he first sights sees the thing moving through the trees, Dale passes a moment of awestruck silence. Not disbelief, necessarily - it's difficult to surprise him, and in light of the past few days nothing seems impossible any more - but certainly amazement, enough so that he forgets to move.

"Incredible," he whispers to himself, the corners of his mouth faintly lifting. In all likelihood the unicorn will probably startle like any other wild animal (or feral, really, if he's to compare it to its closest relative in the dimension he came from), so he takes only a single step forward, very gradually moving his weight to his leading foot once he puts it down in an effort to stop the abrupt crunch of a footstep on fallen twigs.

He's acutely aware of the slow, deliberate rhythm of his own breaths as the mare stops in her tracks some twenty meters away and stares in his direction, ears tall and perfectly erect save for a slight forward lean. She's listening. Waiting for his next move. It occurs to Cooper only once he has made eye contact with the massive animal, as her horn is passively pointing at him like a raised spear, that he does not know what the best course of action is in this specific situation.

They're a prey animal, at least, but so are moose, and moose cause more injuries than bears and wolves combined, or so he read in his field guide to the birds and mammals of Washington. War unicorns also trained to attack, but there's no telling if that comes from an innate tendency toward aggression or training alone, and he's fairly sure she's wild (Or would the correct term be feral? He hasn't been here long enough to establish whether or not this particular species is actually domesticated).

Cooper decides it's in his best interest not to press the fragile situation, and spends a few moments in conflicted silence before settling on a passive retreat, seeing as making himself seem larger might have an effect opposite of intended. As he begins to slowly step backwards, however, he carefully moves a hand to his hip holster and switches off the safety catch of the 1076 he brought with him.

Whether or not a 10 millimeter bullet is enough to stop a war unicorn, he doesn't know. It could certainly kill a horse if it was put in the right location, but these aren't horses, so hopefully it won't come to that - especially seeing as he really doesn't want to kill a creature this beautiful if he doesn't have to.

CONFUSION.

Crowded city areas aren't an unfamiliar sight - nor would they be for anyone else who's lived in Philadelphia. Part of that, especially for those who take public transport, is fleeting physical contact with strangers, so Dale initially doesn't think much of it when his elbow bumps another body on the sidewalk - but before he can offer a quick apology, the back of his hand brushes their wrist and the world freezes over.

[ The memory he involuntarily shares: Coming into consciousness and realizing a moment later that the reason the woman in your arms feels so heavy is because she's dead. You're cold, with the exception of the blood plastering the lower half of your shirt to your abdomen. Lightheaded. The pain somewhere next to your navel is so overwhelming you assume you've been shot, and yet, it's abstracted from reality, because the woman you love is dead and nothing else matters. You shake her shoulders and say her name over and over - Caroline! Caroline! - but her lips are already tinged blue. Setting her down to put pressure on your own wound with both hands feels like ripping off a part of your own body. Black spots begin to dapple your vision. At least you'll die together if help doesn't arrive before you slip into full hypovolemic shock. You weep. ]